Make Angels of Us and Give Us Wings
by UpTheWolves8
Summary: She moves halfway across the world to escape her hometown, and winds up suddenly entangled in the happenings of the Ouran High School Host Club. Somewhere between her unapologetic nature and their reckless behavior does she find a place that makes her happy and people who test her sanity in the best possible way.
1. Prologue

While riding home on the underground subways of New York, I thought that being more discouraged was impossible. It was a scenario I knew well: I had just left the principal's office of a prestigious art school with the verdict of expulsion. The man to my left smelled like urine and I was pretending to be engulfed by the novel on my lap so as to avoid any unwanted attention from the other subway-goers. My mind was elsewhere, though. In fact, my mind was on the second story of my mother's Brooklyn brownstone thinking of ways to tell her I had been expelled from school for the third time.

The first time had been in middle school. A group of friends and I had planned an elaborate end-of-the-year prank to celebrate the ounce of freedom we were about to receive. However, it resulted in an injured-faculty worker, two cars newly void of usage, and someone's mother in tears. In the end, I was ousted as the spearhead of it all. In all honesty, I probably wouldn't have been expelled if it weren't for the fact that when they caught me, I laughed my way all the way to the principal's office.

After that, my mother thought it would be best if she enrolled me in a private Catholic school with a strict code of morality. Not only do I not identify as Catholic, being packed into a school that found every way to drain me of whatever freedom I had was largely unappealing. Within the first week of school a talent show was held wherein I performed a song debasing much of what the school stood for. It was probably more harsh than I planned it to be, but the high priestess sent a polite e-mail to my mother outlining all the reasons I probably wasn't the best "fit" for their school. I was out of there before classes even started.

This time was different though. I'd done nothing outrageous prior to being heralded into a meeting with administration. At this point in time, I had little motivation to attend school each and every day. It was a highly-ranked art school and my focus was in music, but each day I went, I felt like I was gaining little from the classes. My expulsion probably resulted the sarcastic remarks I'd made in the process rather than my lack of motivation.

When I finally exited the subway, I began my journey in the overcast New York weather to my home. I knew my mother had probably already received the phone call, so I opened the door timidly and peered inside. She came tumbling down the stairs, hair messy in a top knot and face sticky with paint. She yanked me inside, and the yelling began.

What she was mostly upset about was that I had managed to get expelled from the same school she herself had attended in her youth. She was a painter, you see, and was actually able to afford a New York brownstone off of her work.

"You are so talented!" she wailed, "All those music classes when you were little, and a top-notch school manages to expel you because of your 'lack of motivation'!"

"Well, I don't know if you recall, but I was never exactly jovial to go to those music classes either," I groaned.

She considered me for a moment as if deciding whether her next words were truly valid.

"This is what you want to do with your life, isn't it? Play music?" she said, her voice now calm and dark. "Do you realize how much money I've spent trying to make your life decent? You just throw it away like nothing matters to you! Nothing ever matters to you! I'm a painter, for Christ's sake, do you think your life is affordable for me? I can't just write you off on my taxes, you know! I can't keep worrying about where you'll be able to go to school next. It 's driving me up the goddamn wall! You got lucky with this last one, and I'll let you figure out the next one." She paused. "And when you do, you can worry about where you'll live too." With that, she rushed past me, out the door, and into the city.

I stood in the quiet for awhile, looking around the newly empty kitchen. Here and there bits of my mother's artwork could be found about the house, but the only trace of my own existence was in my bedroom, where I dragged myself next. I began throwing my belongings into bags and suitcases until they could be filled anymore. I didn't have much to take with me, but when I finished, my room looked so empty of humanity that I finally began to cry.

What I did next was impulsive, even for myself.

I sat on my floor with my laptop and called my brother to video chat. When he answered, I had stopped crying my eyes were puffy and my cheeks were red. He knew something was wrong immediately. He tried to coax the story out of me, but all I could bring myself to say was "I'm coming to Japan."

I ended the call, gathered my things, and slept among the homeless in the cold New York weather that night.

* * *

><p><strong>Something compelled me to rewrite an old story of mine, so that is what is happening here. I'm also in the process of filling out college applications so who knows how frequently this will be updated. Much love x<strong>


	2. Chapter 1

My flight landed after thirteen hours of being stuck in seats with crushed peanuts between them and a neck-pillow. The man on my right snored loudly throughout the whole flight until the plane's wheels finally touched down and jolted him awake. I had tried to sleep along the way, but my nerves had kept me perfectly attentive.

My father and brother lived in Japan, and while I rarely spoke to the man who assisted in my creation, I was close with my brother. Well, as close as two might be when separated by oceans. We video-chatted frequently, updating each other on our lives. In the process, I'd learned to speak Japanese fairly fluently. My mother had taught me a few things, but my brother taught me most of what I know.

He was the one waiting for me when I finally hauled myself out of the airplane. He gathered me up in a hug quickly. The last time time we saw each other in person was in some distant memory of childhood, and we both had changed remarkably, both in appearance in character.

I pulled away and studied my brother, trying to make real what felt like some sort of warped dream. Perhaps that was just the jet-lag, though. "Jeez, Hideki," I groaned. He was the picture of put-together, it seemed. Perfectly composed, he was wearing a gray suit-jacket with black pants that tapered nicely with the intensity of his height (he was at least a foot taller than me, which is a characteristic one doesn't really come to acknowledge when all interactions occur online). His dark hair was perfectly combed to one side, and he stood with an air of both nonchalance and pride. He was my half-brother, really. I was the bastard child produced from one of our father's business trips into America. At the time, he had a fiancee pregnant with Hideki, though he never told her about my mother. I contacted Hideki when I was middle-school-aged and introduced myself. Our father had since married the woman Hideki called his mother, and while Hideki had confronted him about the infidelity, it didn't disrupt their family too much presumably because so many years had passed since then.

I, on the other hand, was the picture of a sleepless night on the streets and a long flight. My sandy-brown hair was tied at the crown of my head, hairs falling out here and there, much like my mother's was the last time I saw her, and I had bags under my eyes that could have stored all of my luggage. My sweatpants were too creased to be truly presentable anywhere and I was still wearing the orange neck-pillow atop my shoulders.

He pulled the pillow off of me, waved it my direction and said, "What the hell, Rose?"

That's when the laughter bubbled out of both of us. The situation itself was quite severe, but we were both thinking of how we would explain the scenario to other people, and it was actually quite comical in this regard.

After gathering up my luggage, Hideki led me to a sleek black car that was waiting for us. We crawled in the back and I began telling him about the events that led me to book a flight to Japan. Somewhere mid-story I realized that Hideki had his own personal driver. I didn't ask him about it, but I did wonder what sort of home Hideki had grown up in. I knew my father was wealthy; he was a renowned doctor, but I didn't realize that that wealth extended to the point of personal drivers. Hideki had always been quite humble, it seemed.

It wasn't until we pulled into his home that I realized just how humble he had been. Hideki and his family lived in a massive mansion ornately decorated with elaborate landscaping and what was probably more rooms than they would ever need.

I gaped at the sight, and Hideki laughed next to me, "Sorry, I thought you would have known where exactly you'd be living before you booked that flight."

"So it's okay that I do live with you?" I asked tentatively. I had hoped this would be the case when I boarded the flight, but nothing had been confirmed thus far.

"Well about that," he muttered, shifting his eyes downward. Suddenly, anxiety shot through me. I knew it had all been too easy so far. I knew there had to be some kind of catch, and this was it.

"Dad doesn't exactly know you're here yet," he said quietly.

"Are you kidding, Hideki?" I shouted weakly. The driver peered around to observe us, then left the car.

"Ah, no, I'm not," he scratched the back of his head, "There's just a few complications with this plan, Rose. You must have have known that when you booked the flight."

The truth is, I hadn't considered any of this, but I nodded like I had. Honestly, I had no idea where I could possibly go if this didn't work out.

"What if he doesn't want me here?" I asked quietly.

"I don't know how he'll feel about it," he responded. "He's always asked about you all these years we've been in contact, so he does care about you."

"He's never made the effort to get in contact with me himself," I mumbled.

Hideki smiled gently, but said nothing to this. Then he said, "So here's the plan..."

We marched through the front door. I was trying my best to appear as though I belonged here, but in reality it took all of my willpower to not stare at the expensive decor of their home. Everything looked to be of the highest quality and none it had paint splattered on it. Hideki led me up a few flights of stairs and into a room the smelled of cigars and old books. Our father was a man who smoked imported cigars, it seemed.

Hideki shut the door behind me, and we stood quietly waiting for our father to turn away from his work

"You know, I don't appreciate it when I'm in my office and other people interrupt my work." This was the first time I'd heard my father's voice.

"I know that," Father,Hideki answered formally, "But we have something important to discuss."

He then swiveled around in his chair and his eyes landed on me immediately. He studied me closely before rising from his chair and striding across the room. There was a deadly quiet in the room that was then interrupted by the loud crack of him slapping Hideki across the face. Hideki faltered for a moment, then regained himself and stood poised with a red mark across his face from where his father's hand had landed.

His face was utterly composed, but his voice shook slightly as he spoke. "She needs us," he said.

He then stood to face me, and I bowed sloppily, unaccustomed to Japanese formalities.

"My name is Rose," I said quickly. "Actually, the name you gave me is Chieko, but I go by Rose now."

"Rose, huh? That does sounds like the type of name your mother would give you," he said. I detected some degree of nostalgia in his voice as he said this.

"Yes, well, it's my middle name actually. I started going by it in grade school when everyone around me struggled to pronounce 'Chieko,'" I said nervously.

My father then turned back to Hideki, who was fidgeting in his place. "You're mother will not be pleased, you know. Why don't you explain to me what my daughter is doing here," he demanded.

Hideki launched into the same story I had told him moments ago.

"What made you think you'd be welcome here, of all places?" Father said to me. "Why not just stay in New York rather than imposing yourself on us? What made you think I'd want to house a delinquent?"

The tears welled in my eyes at his words and I felt a redness blooming on my cheeks, but I repressed it as best I could and gave him my explanation. "I've got nowhere else to go," I said, "I never stayed in one place long enough in New York to make good enough friends with anyone who would consider housing me, and it's too expensive of a place to live on my own. Not while going to school, and working a minimum wage job, anyway. And I'm not a delinquent, I swear. Circumstances have just never been quite right for me. If you take me in, I'll get a job. I'll do well in school. I swear."

Father sat back down in his chair and looked at his children pensively. "That woman always acted irrationally," he said finally.

"My wife doesn't know you exist," he continued "And I don't want her to. You can stay in one of our guest rooms, Rose, but not simply as freeloader. I'm going to employ you as a maid, and you shall serve our family in exchange for room and board. You are also not to address me as your father if anyone but Hideki or myself is in the room. You shall refer to me as Mr. Koizumi whenever anyone else is around - especially when my wife is around. Hideki will show you to your room now, and you can start unpacking your things. Then you shall begin the application to the school Hideki attends. Have we reached an understanding?"

Hideki and I nodded vigorously then shuffled out of the room. He then walked me through what seemed like a maze of hallways to the room I would be staying in. All of my luggage had already been brought up, surprisingly.

Hideki sat down on the vastly pillowed king bed with a groan, pushing his head between his knees in irritation. I watched him, waiting vaguely for a cue that I could start to get comfortable in this household. Eventually he peered up at me after a few deep breaths and said callously, "I guess its time to start that application."

I nodded, and then hastily started searching through my bags for my laptop. Setting it down on the mahogany desk in the room, I began to open my web browser in search of the local public high school. Hideki pushed himself off of the bed and hovered over me. "I go to Ouran Academy, Rose," he said curiously.

"Is that a different school?" I asked.

"It's an elite private school," he answered airily, then pulled up its web page, and I began filling out the online application. Midway through this process did I locate the tuition cost and a thought occurred to me. There were so many zeros attached to the end of this price tag that no sane person could afford it year to year. I wanted to scream, but instead I just gaped at the screen and then at Hideki and then back at the screen.

Hideki merely blinked at me and said, "What did you expect?"

Breathlessly, I cried, "I expected the public school! Not a single part of me expected that my father would mandate that I go to some prissy rich kid school!"

Hideki shrugged. "Haven't you been going to the same types of schools in New York? Besides, I'm sure you'll like Ouran; the campus is gorgeous."

"That's not the point, Hideki!" I gasped, "Even if I find a job here, I won't ever be able to afford this school."

He blinked at me. "How much money did you bring with you?"

I fidgeted in my seat and said, "Honestly, I didn't have much saved up to begin with, and I what did have, I spent on the one-way plane ticket here." I realized now just how much my own judgment had failed me.

Hideki collapsed back onto the bed in the same disgruntled form as before. We sat in silence for awhile, mentally working through any possible coursed of action.

When I was nearly ready to give up, Hideki spoke. "The headmaster's son is in my class. I can explain your situation to him, and see if if he talk to his father about any possible scholarships for you. You're a music buff so I could work that into it somehow."

"Something tells me that's our only option," I sighed. He nodded and we sat in silence for a minute.

He stood to leave, and as he did I pulled him into a hug and quietly thanked him for helping me.

He smiled and returned my hug warmly. However, just before he left the room, he looked at me and, with the same tone of voice our father used when he had scolded Hideki earlier, he said, "Next time though, Rose, don't act so impulsively when you have to make life decisions like this."

The next day, Hideki went back to school and I stayed at the house and began my first day of chores as a maid. I was briefly introduced to Hideki's mother, Katsumi, and though she was friendly to me, I decided it would be best if I didn't say much and simply acted as her employee.

Later on, I received a text from my brother. "_S__uoh wants to hear you play. I guess there's a room we can use. Come to music room #3 after school and be sure to pick a good piece," _it read.

I wondered what he considered would be a good piece, or more importantly what the Suohs would consider a good piece to be. I started taking off the maid uniform and prepared to leave for Ouran, innately anxious about what was expected of me at this audition. Was it even an audition? Or was Hideki just introducing me to his friends? Was the school's chairman even going to be there? I had no clue. I didn't even know what I wanted to play. Moreover, I didn't have any instruments to play. I had brought my guitar on the flight over, but it had gotten lost and I didn't expect it to pop up for another two weeks. If Ouran was such a top-tier school, did I even want to play something on guitar? I knew a more refined instrument would be preferred.

I played piano and some brass instruments fairly well, but I was primarily a string instrumentalist. I could play the violin, the cello, bass guitar (or upright bass), even the harp if the mood compelled me. But my heart was with the guitar. And my guitar was lost in transit. I guess that means my heart was lost in transit too, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.

All the same, all I could hope for is that I could use an instrument at the school. Hideki did say we would be in a music room after all.

I texted Hideki for the directions, put on some of my nicest attire, and was out the door in a matter of minutes.

The campus was... _pink. _Not that there's anything particularly wrong with color pink, I just didn't expected to have pink walls stretching up before me at was supposed to be a regal and elite school. The landscaping was stunning though, but I must stay the most poignant impression I got from this visit was that the female uniform was not something I was going to want to wear on a regular basis. It was a yellow floor-length ball gown with puffy sleeves, and I couldn't imagine how anyone could comfortably wear that regularly. At the moment, I was wearing the outfit most girls wore at my old school for an orchestral concert: a black strapless dress that flared out a bit around mid-thigh, black tights, black patent pumps, and a blazer, with my light hair pulled neatly into a side pony-tail. Walking through the halls, I felt that my all-black outfit was out of place in the pastel palette of Ouran, but I proceeded regardless.

When I finally found Music Room #3, I was hit with such a powerful smell of roses that I very briefly missed the streets of New York that always smelled vaguely of urine.

"_Welcome, princess," _came a chorus of voices, to which I immediately turned to leave.

"Sorry, wrong room!" I blurted, but suddenly I heard Hideki's voice coming from inside. I turned around and saw him behind the crowd of boys seemingly arguing with a black-haired one in glasses.

"Hideki?" I called, and he waved at me, beckoning me to come into the room.

"Oh, so you're the lovely sister of this fine gentlemen," said a blonde one, with a voice smooth as silk. "We've been waiting for offered me rose, and I was so shocked I didn't know whether to accept it or not.

Luckily, I didn't have to make that decision because Hideki came sailing in and smacked the rose from his hand saying, "Don't talk to my sister like that Tamaki, you jerk!"

"I'm sorry," came the voice of the boy Hideki had been arguing with, "But aren't you here to ask for money? That is certainly no way to talk to your benefactor, you know."

"Shut up you!" Hideki responded, "She's here to play music, not to be assailed by a bunch of perverts."

"You know, calling us perverts really isn't helping your case," said a pair of voices attached to red-headed twins with their arms around each other.

"Uh..." I tried to speak, but was quickly interrupted.

"Don't worry, dear. The Ouran Host Club will to its best to help you in any way we can," the blonde one Tamaki said, gesticulating dramatically, "What a tragic story! Raised by an abusive mother, then forced to live on the streets with nothing but the clothes on your back! Poverty-stricken and hopeless, music has been your only solace, hasn't it?"

"Wait a minute, you're making it sound so much worse than it is! My mother wasn't abusive, we just didn't get along, okay?!" I shouted, but Tamaki was so wrapped up in himself that he didn't hear me.

"Well dear, us gentlemen do empathize with that. Despite having more wealth than you could even begin to imagine, there is a reason we chose a music room to be the meeting place of our club! What other place could provide the same sort of comfort to the heart that music does!" he continued.

"Wow, you really are a jerk aren't you," I answered coldly.

It didn't phase his though. "Oh my, in your circumstance, I surely don't blame you for being bitter, my little angel. I don't know what I would ever do if I was in the same position!" he went on.

"Yeah, that's because you've been raised privileged as fuck," I groaned, and at this he looked as though he'd been deeply hurt, and collapsed, possibly eroding, on the floor.

"Wow, she's feisty," the twins smirked, glowering over the fallen Tamaki.

"Hideki, am I playing in front of these people?" I asked my brother who had been glaring daggers and the boy with glasses. "Can I at least be properly introduced to them?"

Straightening up, he came over to me and said, "The one you insulted into the ground, is Tamaki Suoh. He's pretty ignorant, but his family is the one who will technically be paying for your tuition."

...Woops. First impressions have never been my strong suit. Tamaki recovered quickly though at the mention of his name. He seemed like he was about to launch into a lengthy introduction, but Hideki dismissed him and continued naming off the boys around us.

"Those two are Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin. Good luck figuring out which is which," pointed at the two red-headed twins who were still smirking at me.

"Those two Morinozuka and Haninozuka, but don't be deceived, they're both third years," he said. Of the two he was talking about, I could believe one was in his third year of high school, but the other looked like he should still be in elementary school.

"You can just call me Honey!" the little one said with a smile that stretched across his face. He was pretty adorable. I decided not to question it.

"Haruhi Fujioka is over there. He's a scholarship student too, so maybe you too would get along." I waved at the brown-haired boy, and he smiled at me in a way that seemed rather... effeminate?

"And lastly, that guy over there is Kyoya Ootori. I suggest you stay away from him." He was talking about the guy he had been arguing with earlier, and I wanted to ask what caused the rivalry that seemed to be going on between them, but I figured that was a question for a later date.

At this point, I knew I needed to impress these people, and I had already greeted them rudely, particularly Tamaki, so I bowed my head and adopted the sweetest tone of voice I could muster and said, "It's lovely to meet all of you."

"She's cute, Boss, can we keep her?" the twins said in unison.

In response, Tamaki, the presumed boss, shouted , "We're here to help her, men! Stop flirting with her!"

"But you were just flirting with a minute ago," the twins shrugged.

"I was welcoming her!" Tamaki blushed. "It was totally different from what you perverts said!"

That trio continued to argue and Hideki and I simply watched the scene unfold.

"What even is a host club?" I asked Hideki while we waited for them to finish their drama.

"They basically get paid to woo women," he responded.

"So they really are all a bunch of perverts," I groaned. I couldn't believe my admittance to this school was going to depend on these goons.

Just then, the door opened and in walked an older man who silenced the room when he entered.

"Hello, Father," Tamaki said calmly, "You're just in time."

"That's good to hear,the Chairman said, striding over to me.

I bowed before him. "I'm Chieko Koizumi. It's nice to meet you."

The man smiled genially at me and said, "I've heard quite a few things about you. My son seems to have a lot of faith in you."

I looked at Tamaki, who I had done nothing but insult since I arrived, and wondered what his father meant by "faith" when we had only just met. I blushed slightly.

"So when do we get to hear you play?" the Chairman asked.

"Well, actually, sir," I said, "I didn't bring any of my instruments because I had to leave America as quickly as I did. I was hoping I would be able to use one of the school's instruments."

"Well, this is a music room after all!" he responded, "That should be fine."

"This may be a music room," the twins said, "But all we've got is a grand piano if that's what you had in mind."

I looked between the twins and Hideki. "Well, I can play piano, but I was hoping for a cello or something," I said quietly.

"Try one of the neighboring music rooms. They should have a cello," said Kyoya, and Hideki and I left to find one soon after.

We returned with the most beautiful cello I'd ever touched. My school back home had nice instruments, but nothing that compared to this. The Host Club had transformed the room into a makeshift concert hall in the time we were gone. There was a small curtained stage with a seat and a microphone for me, and numerous chairs had been arranged around it. In the front row sat the Chairman and the Host Club. Behind them, girls - presumably their customers - were filing into the rest of the seats.

Hideki patted me on the back and said, "Good luck, kid," and joined the audience.

I took a deep, confident pause before stepping onto the stage. The room went silent as I sat down with the cello. I was shaking slightly, but I truly wasn't nervous. Over the years, I'd found that though there were many things I was bad at, the one thing I was good at was playing music.

I positioned my bow, took one last look at the audience, and began to play.


End file.
